Falling
by Mi-chan17
Summary: After the death of her mentors, and with her best friend following a girl that she can't stand, Kitty Pryde's world is falling apart. What can put it back together?


**And the random Bobby/Kitty muses strike again. No idea why. So, this is a Christmas gift for Sue Penkivech – Merry Christmas, Sue! And I hope the rest of you like it. **

**Thanks/Dedications: Dedicated to Sue, of course, since it was written for her. Uber-thanks to Oldprydefan who beta'd it for me so that you guys could read it without being sick. **

Falling

"It is falling very hard, isn't it?"

I pull my gaze away from the snow outside to face the owner of the Russian-accented voice. It's Piotr, of course, towering over me. Given how huge he is, it's amazing that more of us aren't afraid of him. But he radiates a sort of seriousness and gentleness, and I'm no more afraid of him than I am of any normal sized boy.

"Yeah," I agree, pushing an escaped lock of hair behind one of my ears.

Piotr gestures to the space next to me on the window seat. "May I sit down?" I nod and move over a little to make more space. We both stare out the window for a while, as the sky gets darker and the snow seems to shine a little.

"You seem bothered by something, Katya," He comments. He's right. I am. And I'm not a very good actress, so he'll know if I lie. I look over at him, and the way he's staring at me is a little unnerving. Very intense, with his dark, dark eyes. I have to look away.

"I guess…I'm just thinking about how much has changed," I admit softly. Piotr nods. And I suppose this is why I'm talking to him and not someone else. He gets it. He was there.

And he cares enough to ask me about it rather than trailing after an emo southern girl.

This time last year, I would've been talking to Bobby, not Piotr. I shake my head a little. Angry as I am with Bobby, and bothered as I am by Rogue, or Marie, or whatever she's going by now – this isn't their fault. I almost wish it _was_ their fault. Then I could phase them into a wall and be done with it.

"I just…I've never been here for a Christmas when Dr. Grey and Mr. Summers weren't here, y'know? When," My voice catches, but I push through, "when the Professor wasn't here." Piotr knows that I mean the Christmas gift exchange we have every year, rather than the actual holiday. Only a few kids stay for winter break, and I've never been one of them. But it's hard to imagine the gift party without the three of them. I almost hope we don't have it, though I know we will.

"Da. It will be strange, without them," Piotr agrees. His accent is sort of soothing. "But I do not think they would have been happy, knowing that you are not, Katya. They would have wanted you to enjoy the party, and Hanukkah."

He's right. I _know_ he's right. But I don't know that I can. I was closer with Dr. Grey than I had been with anyone else – Bobby, formerly, excepted. It was Dr. Grey who'd recognized how interested I was in science. It was Dr. Grey who'd, for Hanukkah last year, given me my own pass to get into the lab – and then showed me how to use it; we'd talked a lot, down there. It was Dr. Grey who'd written my recommendation for MIT.

She and Mr. Summers had been like my parents here at Xavier's. And they were gone. Professor Xavier was gone. Bobby wasn't dead, but for all I'd existed since Rogue had gotten "cured", he could've been.

The family I'd built over three years was gone.

Much to my horror and embarrassment, I'm crying. Piotr looks a bit surprised. I don't cry in front of people often, if at all. I wipe my eyes, mumble an apology to him and head quickly towards my room.

Of course, who should I run into when I'm already upset? Rogue and Bobby. Making out in the hallway. I feel sick, and realize that I can't get to my room without them moving or me phasing through them. Fuck.

At the sight of them, my anger has come back, similar to my nausea. So, instead of attempting to do this politely, as I would normally, I shove past them, hissing in a voice that sounds too angry and too upset to be mine, "Get a room, dammit."

I can feel Bobby's shocked gaze on me, but I don't care at the moment. Someone would've told them off eventually.

I manage to make it to my room and shut the door, locking it behind me.

I collapse onto my bed. My cheeks are wet, and any pretense of coping well that I had is definitely gone. And then there's a knock on my door.

"Go away, Piotr." It has to be him. But I'm too upset now to make much coherent sense. And none of this is poor Piotr's fault. He doesn't deserve my anger and frustration.

"It's not Piotr," a familiar male voice replies.

I know that voice. My body flashes with so many emotions – relief, anger, triumph, depression – that I don't even know how to respond.

"C'mon Kitty," Bobby begs through the door. "Let me in."

I use one of my sleeves to wipe some stray tears from my eyes and cheeks before I go to the door. I pull it open, just enough to see him.

"Shouldn't you be sucking face with Rogue somewhere?" It's surprising to me how cold my voice is, and with how angry I sound. I've surprised Bobby too, I can tell. His brown eyes narrow on my face.

"Can I come in?" He asks.

I roll my eyes, as I internally wonder dimly where this side of me has come from – but I am too upset to care all that much. Taking that as a yes, Bobby gently pushes past me, shutting the door behind him. His warm brown eyes are focused on me, concern written across his features.

"Are you okay, Kit? What's going on?"

"Like you care," I nearly snort, disbelief evident in my voice.

Shock replaces concern on his face, and he looks like I've slapped him. "How could you say that?" He asks. Or demands, really. "Kitty, you're my friend." His eyes are bright now, and he's watching my face intently.

"No," I tell him, sounding soft and resigned. "I'm not your friend."

His mouth falls open, and he looks crushed – the happy sparkle that I usually associate with him having fled somewhere since he came into my room – it abates my anger a little, but not entirely. "Piotr and Jubes…they're my friends, Bobby. They don't just ditch me when someone else comes along."

He looks like he's trying to reply, but can't find the words. Imagine. Bobby Drake, speechless. After a couple of minutes, he manages to ask, "Is this about Rogue?" It both is and isn't, and I can't reply, so he barrels on, "Because you didn't have a problem with her before."

I start shaking my head. "I don't have a problem with Rogue, Bobby." Well, okay, I do – but that isn't my main problem right now. "I'm not sure what you see in her, since she's always whining and bringing you down with her, but it's not her I'm frustrated with. What happened to you, Bobby?" I ask, and I'm distressed to note that my eyes are pricking with tears – but frustration's made me reckless.

"What happened to the guy who used to be my best friend? What happened to hanging out with Piotr and Jubilee? Remember when we ice-skated last fall?" He swallows, and I know he does. "Yeah. What happened to that guy, huh? The friend that cared about me, and hugged me for no reason and made me laugh? Because you know what? I could really use _that_ guy right about now."

Bobby looks utterly stunned, and very confused. "I'm still that guy," he tells me earnestly, reaching out to take my hand – like he used to when I was upset.

I pull it back.

"You know, Bobby. I would have never done this to you. Or to any of my friends. How could you abandon us? We were your friends long before you ever met her!"

"That's not true," Bobby disagrees. "I haven't abandoned you guys. I don't spend any more time with her now than I did before…before her trip."

"I just…I can't deal with it anymore, Bobby. I'm…I can't."

Now I really am crying, and there's no turning back. Not pretty crying, either. Giant hiccupping sobs. I lost Dr. Grey, and Professor X, and Mr. Summers, and now I'm going to lose my best friend too. I register Bobby moving forward and wrapping his arms around me in a hug.

He's really warm, and I bury my face in the crook of his neck, because God only knows the next time I'll get to see him like this. To talk to him like this. Because, once I've calmed down, and he leaves, he'll go back to Rogue again. His arms are as tight around me as mine are around him – he's solid to lean against. I know he can feel my tears against his neck before they fall onto his shirt, and I'm a little embarrassed.

I have no idea how long we stand there, no concept of the time that passes. Eventually, it ends, though. I'm sniffling a little, trying to keep from bursting into tears again – I'm still raw, still grieving for my substitute parents, and now I'm saying good-bye to my best friend.

He was better than my best friend, even. I'd told him anything and everything, and he'd always made me feel better. He'd calmed me down when I was upset, made me happy when I was sad.

"Are we okay?" Bobby asks softly. I can't look up at him, can't look him in the eye. I'm afraid too. Because in the midst of this emotional tornado, and somewhere in the time that's elapsed since he came in the room…I've realized why I've missed him so much.

"I'm not sure we can be," I admit softly, my voice still not quite right.

"Why?" And he sounds genuinely upset. "Because of Rogue? Because I spend too much time with her? I promise, Kit, I'll fix it. I had no idea you were this upset. If I had…" Bobby trails off and rubs his neck with one of his hands. "Kitty, you're my best friend."

I'm still sniffling, and he hugs me again. And he's solid, and he's warm, and, just for a second, he's my Bobby again. The Bobby I was best friends with – who hugged me because I needed it, or for no reason at all. The Bobby who took me ice skating in the fall, because I was upset. The one who'd held my hand if I was crying or scared.

Suddenly, my door swings open and a definite Southern accent says, "I can not believe this."

We let go of each other and turn to find Rogue glaring at us as though it might set us ablaze. She looks hurt. And, honestly, I don't care. She _always_ looks hurt. Always whining about how hard her life's been, how much her power stole from her for so long. Even now that she doesn't _have_ a mutation, she _still_ bitches about it. And dammit, I'm getting really tired of trying to be sympathetic. I hurt too, sometimes. And sometimes I need my best friends to help make me feel better. Fuck her.

Bobby looks between the two of us and, if I don't feel bad for her, I feel a little bad for him. Finally, his gaze settles on Rogue.

"What are you talking about?" He sounds genuinely confused.

"I was just comin' to check on you, since you'd been gone awhile, and I walk in on the two of you all hugged up like you're 'bout to jump one another." Rogue spits out angrily. I back away, afraid that my guilt will show on my face. While I'm sure Bobby was only being the Bobby that I'm used to, I know what my revelation was while hugging him – and I know it wasn't platonic.

"She's my friend," Bobby replies evenly. "She was upset. I was trying to make her feel better."

"I saw what I saw, Bobby Drake," Rogue replies. And she turns on her heel beats a hasty retreat from the room. Probably off to find Logan.

"I'm sorry," Bobby apologizes, heading for the door. He's going to find her, of course. Then he's gone, and I fall back onto my bed.

I see them the next day. I guess they made up, or something like it, because they're sitting together and talking in fast, hushed tones. I'm a little curious as to what happened when he found her. But, embarrassed about how I fell apart yesterday, I don't ask. I glance at them, torn between dislike and relief. I don't like her going out with him. I never will. But I hate to see him sad. Bobby isn't meant to be sad, really. He's always had trouble coping with it.

I think something's wrong, though. Something in the way they're talking, and looking at one another. The caution I normally see in Bobby's face when he talks to her is gone, replaced with something harder – she looks a little stunned, and angry. I should probably go before they see me, since I doubt my presence will help – so I sneak out into the hallway from the rec. room and go outside.

It's freezing. Even through my thick coat I can still feel the cold, and wrap my arms around myself for protection. I've always liked ice and cold weather. Dark and cold. If it was only ever dark and cold, I'd be okay with that. I think I'm really meant to be nocturnal. There's a chunk of ice that looks suspiciously man-made and my thoughts drift back inside. I wonder how Bobby's doing in his whisper-confrontation. I hate confrontation. I generally try to avoid it, because if I can't, and I lose my temper – well, we saw yesterday, I really lose it.

The fountain's frozen over, and remembering my midnight skate with Bobby, I go over to slide a gloved hand over the ice. For that night he'd just been Bobby again, and not part of Rogue-and-Bobby, an entity that I was growing to hate. Really, truly hate. I don't really like Rogue, and I really don't like her pulling Bobby away from his friends.

I really don't like myself being this bitter, either. I'm not normally a bitter or angry person. A little reserved and shy, part of coming from a small town, I think – but I'm not normally so vindictive.

"Hey."

I turn around and see Bobby standing there, hands in pockets and eyes on the frozen ground.

"What're you doing out here?" I ask. "I thought I saw you inside talking to Rogue."

Something flashes across his face, and it's a new thing. Something I can't wholly identify. "Yeah, well, we decided…it might be best, for both of us, if we broke things off," he replies softly. He looks up at me and there's a sorrow to his normally happy brown eyes that I've rarely seen.

"I'm so, so sorry," I whisper, coming a little closer to him. And I am. I don't like Rogue, didn't appreciate her monopolizing my best friend – but Bobby had truly cared about her. And she dumped him. "Did she…did she dump you just because of yesterday?"

He shakes his head a little, and I wonder what other excuse she gave him. Because, really, who would dump Bobby? He's a great guy. Warm, and funny, solid, and caring…any girl would be lucky to have him. Especially Rogue.

"It wasn't her. It was both of us. We just realized…something wasn't right. We had trouble talking, kind of. I didn't always understand what she was saying, and she never understood what I was saying. We liked each other we just…didn't match or something."

I've rarely heard him so serious. I hear him serious more than other people do – for all he has a great sense of humor, Bobby can be mature and toned down. His eyes are still on me.

"Well, I'm sorry, anyway," I offer, hugging him. Even in this cold, he's still warm – of course, the temperature doesn't affect him, but it's nice for those hugging him. His arms come up around me and he's hugging me back. Just like yesterday, I lose track of time. But the hug does end eventually, and he pulls back and looks me in the eye.

"Thank you."

I blink in surprise. Why would he be thanking me? "What? What for?"

Bobby smiles a little, "You did what a best friend was supposed to do. Get me off my frozen ass to put out a fire. I need to get beat up that way sometimes. So thanks."

I smile a little in response.

Bobby looks out over the fountain and finally gives me the smile I'm used to. The same one he's been giving me since my first day at "Mutant High". "Want to go skating?"

"I don't have any skates," I point out.

Bobby shrugs a little. "We don't need them."

He takes my hand and pulls me over the edge of the fountain, onto the frozen water. I start to slip, but he holds me up and starts to glide. I've never understood how he manages to do that. He's better at skating without skates than with them – whereas I, like I'm about to now, always fall on my butt.

"How cool are we?" He jokes. A bad pun, the sort of thing I'm used to from him. He tries to spin me around and I end up falling. In fact, over the next half an hour, I fall about fifteen times. My pants are getting soaked, and I think my butt is bruising.

Much as I try to hide it, I'm getting cold; Bobby can tell. I don't want it to end. Don't want to go back inside where he'll be reminded of what just ended, and which one of his friends caused it.

"Well, at least you proved, yet again, that cats don't like water," Bobby grins. "Even frozen." I stick my tongue out at him and he laughs. "Your lips are turning purple," he points out. I'm not surprised. I'm freezing cold.

"Just once more around?" I plead. Bobby smiles kindly and rolls his eyes, taking my hand one more time and slowly heading around again, dragging my clumsy self behind him. Just as I think we'll make it all the way around without my falling again, I slip. I flop back onto the ice, pulling poor Bobby on top of me. We're both laughing.

It doesn't register for about a minute just how close we are, and then it seems to hit us both at once. We both suddenly stop laughing, and I feel nauseous again – but not in the sick, upset way I was yesterday. Excited nauseous. His eyes are focused on my face.

I'm not really sure who kisses who, but suddenly we're kissing. It's not passionate, not the face eating he and Rogue were doing earlier – but it's amazing. His lips are soft and warm against mine, and they make me feel all tingly. It feels like it lasts minutes, even though it's only a few seconds. Then we pull away and just stare at each

This is the scene that Piotr comes upon a few seconds later. We blush and back away from one another as he comes into our line of sight.

"Skating?" He asks in his deep voice.

"Nope," Bobby responds, sounding like his old self. "You know Kitty. Falling. Always falling."

Piotr laughs and, shaking his head, walks away. Bobby turns to me and smiles.

"And I, for one, am kind of happy you did." So am I. I'm glad I fell, glad I took him with me, glad for what happened.

"Me too. Good thing I'm clumsy. Falling. Always falling." And we laugh.

**Please, please, please review. Good, bad, ugly – I'll take what I can get. I write more, faster when I get reviews. And I'm sure that's horrible, but it's true. **

**Reviews cause squees of excitement.**

**I just want it known that I do Not hate Rogue. Honestly, I don't.**


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